The Love Letter
by phfatbeatrice
Summary: This is pretty much a recollection of what happened to Fukawa when she wrote her first love letter to a boy (and her last, I might interject.) It's not written all too well, because I wrote it quickly a little after 3 am.


A young girl laid in her bed, her eyes studying the ceiling. This small elementary student had been informed that her best friend from school was moving far far away, thus why she lay up and study said ceiling. She let out a heavy sigh, unsure of what she was going to do about the ache residing in her chest over something that she didn't think should hurt so much. She had been taught from a young age that people leave and don't come back; so why did this hurt so bad?

The young girl went by the name Fukawa Touko. She had changed her surname so many times that she wished that her culture allowed for her to just go by her given name - which she didn't necessarily fancy too much. She had gotten to the point that she wasn't even sure of the kanji used to write her name. She took in a light breath before rolling over.

Laying on her bed alongside her was a notepad and a ballpoint pen. Originally, she was going to write in calligraphy but soon grew sour to the idea. She was in the process of writing a love letter to her best friend, the boy that was moving away. She thought it was a ridiculous idea, but managed to talk herself into it, nonetheless. She wanted to express her pain for him before he left, even if she wouldn't get to see him again.

She carefully scooped up the pen and let it settle comfortably in her hand before she let the tip of the pen rest against the paper. For such a young student, her handwriting was exceptional and her knowledge of kanji was extensive. She had to recall what other classmates and their learning books taught just to keep on a proper communicational level with everyone else. Though no one would think that she knew all of this when she spoke, due to her debilitating stutter. She let her mind wonder as she pondered just what to say on this very important letter. She didn't want to say the wrong thing and leave the wrong impression, but she also didn't want to put her entire heart's desires into this letter either.

After a moment or two, she let the the words flow smoothly. /_I sincerely hope that this doesn't intimidate you in any way, but I would like to express my emotions for you through this small script. We've been friends for some time now and I am whelmed with many different confusing feelings that you are leaving me behind. I hate that this must be the time I let my feelings be shown, but it was inevitable, I guess. Please except my feelings for what they are, even if you do not feel the same. I like you. This is difficult for me to write out, but that is how much I trust you. You are the only one that I feel perfectly comfortable with - possibly even more so than my own family. I do not really expect a reply, but please just acknowledge my emotions, even if you take them with a grain of salt._/ Fukawa's hand stopped. She wasn't sure if this was how she wanted this letter. She was pretty much thrusting the idea of ignoring her feelings into his hands. Did she want that?

She sat her pen down and rolled back onto her back to stare at the ceiling. She did want him to write her feelings off. She didn't want him to express his answer before he left. It would be just like every new 'mom'. She shook her head a small bit; her family matters had nothing to do with this.

As she pondered, she dozed off. She ended up leaving the letter exactly as it was. She took what she had of the letter to school with her, slipping it in the open vents of the shoe locker with his family name below it. She hoped that he was going to come to school that day. After that, she saw him throughout the day. He avoided her, so she assumed that he was just nervous. They were very young for something such as a love letter.

The day passed without any event. She kept her head held high, hoping that it was just according to a plan. She got to school the next day to find that he was not there. She felt a tension build up inside of her. She wasn't sure if it was anger, depression, or relief. She didn't have to face him after writing such an embarrassing thing, but she also didn't know his feelings. Alongside that, he left without a goodbye. Almost as if things couldn't get worse though...

A crowd was huddled around the bulletin board at the entrance of the school and all Fukawa could hear were murmurs with her name involved. She shoved her way through the crowd only to find a letter pinned to the board, written in her smooth handwriting. At first, she didn't see it - her mind had shut down. A panic arose in her and she stormed away once she realised just what that was. It was the love letter that she had taken so much time to hand craft and word just right. Her heart was racing and she felt tears whelm her eyes. She didn't want to believe that he would do something like this to her. She assumed one of his friends found it in his desk or something.

She hid away in the girl's restroom, trying her best not to be discovered. After a long while of hiding, Fukawa heard her name over the PA, "Fukawa Touko, please come to the Teacher's office." She cowered, not wanting to go. She knew exactly what it was regarding and she would rather not even address it. Despite her feelings on the matter, she unlocked herself from the stale and began to the teacher's office.

After such a walk, she slipped into the room. She glanced through the room, checking for any other classmates. Once she reassured herself that none of those mocking students were in there, she approached her homeroom teacher. "Y-y-y-yes?" she stammered out, her voice quiet.

"Hello, Fukawa-chan. I wanted to talk to you about this." the middle aged woman said, pointing at the letter that was now residing on her desk. "Did you put this on the news board?"

Fukawa shook her head, her gesture obviously filled with truthful emotions.

"Do you know who might have?" the teacher continued.

Fukawa shook her head again. She hated that she had no idea who had done this to her. She wanted to hurt them. If there was some way that she could do something like kill them, she probably would.

The homeroom teacher nodded before skimming through the letter. "Well, I'm not going to punish you for something like this. If anything, you should be praised. You have a way with words, Fukawa-chan."

Fukawa didn't know if now was the time that she should be complemented, but she still mumbled, "T-t-t-thank y-you." very quietly.

The teacher went on, despite the fact that Fukawa was sure that she should be reprimanded for the ruckus the letter caused, "Maybe you should write a book, Fukawa-chan. The way you can manipulate the Japanese language... If I could, I would get you some creative writing classes or something..." Most of what the teacher was saying sounded more like it was not actually directed at Fukawa.

Fukawa stared at her shoes for a moment or two before she was dismissed. She didn't stay for the rest of the day, too embarrassed to show herself to her classmates. She went home and cried. Soon there after, she took up the teacher's advice and began writing more often. She came to find out that writing was one of the only ways that she could really get her stress out doing.

Shortly after this incident was when she published her first book.


End file.
